Masking the Truth
by kjt1
Summary: A case involving a sleeping disorder sends Sara and Grissom into unfamiliar territory. Casefile and GS. Final part posted.
1. Part 1

Title: Masking the Truth

Spoilers: Through S4, just to be safe, though nothing specific

Disclaimer: As much as I wish, I don't own anything to do with CSI and I have nothing worth suing me for

Summary: A case involving a sleeping disorder sends Sara and Grissom into unfamiliar territory.

A/N: This is my first ever CSI fic and I decided to go down the double-barrelled route of casefile and the road to romance – I hope I pulled it off :-)

Feedback: Always appreciated

1/4

----

"What have we got?" asked Grissom as he and Sara arrived at the crime scene to be met by Brass.

"DB in the bedroom, not sure if it's suspicious or not," replied Brass.

"You're not sure?" queried Grissom.

"See for yourself," shrugged Brass, leading the way towards the victim.

Sara and Grissom both stopped as they reached the entrance to the bedroom, taking in the scene around them. The drapes were closed, nothing appeared to be disturbed and the room looked like a normal bedroom, apart from the presence of a machine on the floor beside the bed.

"What is that?" asked Sara, pointing towards the machine.

"It's a CPAP," replied Grissom immediately. Both Brass and Sara gave him curious looks and he continued, "Continuous Positive Airways Pressure machine, used in the treatment of sleep apnoea."

"Oh," said Sara, obviously wondering how Grissom knew that.

"I've read about the disorder and seen photos of the machines used in some journals," he explained.

"Of course it's a CPAP, that's just what I told everyone," drawled Brass, eliciting a grin from Sara and a smirk from Grissom. "Well, I did know it was for some sort of sleep disorder," he defended, "it has a label from Desert Palms Hospital on it."

"You said you weren't sure if the death is suspicious or not?" prompted Grissom.

"Yeah, I don't know enough about this to make a guess," said Brass. "Not that I'd be _guessing_ anyway," he hastily added at Grissom's look. "I just figured that maybe the machine might be faulty or something."

"We'll take a look," nodded Grissom.

"I'll go talk to the neighbours, see what they can tell me about our vic. Oh, her name is Jennifer Hawkins, from her driving license, she's single, 32 years old," said Brass, waiting for Grissom's nod of confirmation before leaving the room.

"So, sleep apnoea?" said Sara as Brass left. Grissom started looking around the room in more detail, while Sara snapped some photos. "I've heard of it, but I don't really know much about it," she admitted, hoping Grissom would fill her in.

"I don't know much myself, just what I've read. It's caused by having a throat that is narrower than normal. When you sleep, your throat automatically gets narrower as you breathe, so if it's narrower to start with, it can restrict airflow in your lungs, causing you to stop breathing until your fight for breath wakes you up, opening up your throat again. It tends to occur in overweight people, particularly in middle age, though it can be hereditary."

"Well, our victim certainly isn't overweight," commented Sara, looking at the figure on the bed, who if anything, was below average weight.

"No, so it may be hereditary. The machine is from Desert Palms, they should have her notes."

"What does the machine do?"

"It blows a gentle stream of air through the nose, keeping the pressure in the throat higher than the atmospheric pressure, so that the throat does not get pressed closed. The person can either have a nasal canula or a full face mask, this person obviously preferred the mask."

"So, if the machine were faulty, the sufferer could stop breathing?"

"Yes," agreed Grissom, "but usually the person would wake up, as it's an automatic reaction. The machine is really there to try and ensure a good night's sleep, so that the sufferer can lead a normal life, without being tired during the day and prone to falling asleep. Often, the person doesn't even realize that their sleep has been interrupted numerous times, as they just fall asleep again as soon as their throat has re-opened, before they've become fully conscious."

"The machine is switched off," said Sara as she approached it to take some photos.

"Find out from Brass if any officers touched it when they arrived. Also, check who found the body," instructed Grissom.

Sara nodded and left the room to talk to Brass, leaving Grissom to check over the body. When she returned a few minutes later, Grissom was leaning over the victim studying her face closely.

"Did you find out if anyone switched off the machine?" he asked as he heard her approach.

"Yeah, the first officer on the scene did it. He figured since she was dead, she wouldn't need it and he said the noise was annoying him," she told him with a sigh of disgust.

"I hope he was wearing gloves," muttered Grissom as he looked at the power switch on the machine. "Who found the body?"

"A neighbour reported the dog was barking all last night and was still barking when she got home from work today. She called the cops, but it was low priority, so they didn't find the victim until tonight. Animal control were with them and they took the dog away before we got here, as it was highly distressed."

"I don't see too much evidence of a dog around, must be one that doesn't shed too much."

"The officer said the dog was shut in the kitchen, it might be it's not allowed in here."

"Maybe. Can you take a photo of this please?" asked Grissom, looking at the camera in Sara's hands and pointing to the victim's face.

"What is it?" she queried as she stepped towards the bed.

"Just the position of the mask on her face. There's no problem, I just want it photographed. We'll get one when she's turned over too."

Sara took the requisite photos and then checked the victim's fingernails to see if there was any evidence of a struggle. Finding nothing there, she told Grissom that she thought the body could be released. He agreed and they allowed David to take the victim to the morgue.

"Are you finished processing?" asked Sara of Grissom when she had finished collecting all the evidence she could find.

"Yes, we'll get back to the lab and see what we can find on this machine," he replied, disconnecting the machine and wrapping it in protective plastic sheeting. "Can you grab my kit while I take all this?"

"Sure," she nodded, lifting his field kit and evidence bags along with her own and following him outside. 

----

"Brass just called in," reported Sara as she found Grissom in the layout room. "According to the neighbours, the vic lived alone, but had a regular boyfriend. He's trying to track him down now and find out where he was last night."

"Did any of the neighbours see anything?"

"No, they only heard the dog barking. Is the machine telling you anything?" she queried, nodding towards the CPAP machine lying on the table.

"I got prints off it, but they all belong to the victim." Just as he finished speaking, his pager started beeping. Glancing at it, he said, "Autopsy is nearly finished, Doc is ready to verbally report."

"I'll go if you want to work on the machine," she offered.

"We'll both go," he said, holding the door open for her and following her out of the room.

----

"What have you found?" asked Grissom as soon as they arrived.

"Well, it's good to see you too, Grissom," chuckled Doc Robbins.

"Sorry. What have you found?"

"Cause of death was oxygen starvation. You said she suffered from sleep apnoea?"

"Yes," replied Sara.

"Well, the effects of that would be consistent."

"She had a CPAP machine though and, as far as I can tell, it seems to be functioning normally," pointed out Grissom.

"Well, I guess you have a mystery to solve then," smiled Robbins.

"Okay, thanks, Doc. I think we'll investigate sleep apnoea until Brass brings in the boyfriend. Sara, let's go."

----

"What's the next move then?" asked Sara as they walked towards Grissom's office.

"I placed a call earlier, while you were checking with Brass. We can head over to the Desert Palms Sleep Clinic around 8am, if you're up for a double?"

"Of course I'm up for a double," she smiled. "Sleep clinic though, is that what I think it is?"

"They study people who suffer from sleep disorders. It's part treatment and part research. Our victim was a patient there, so we need to find out how bad her condition was and how they were treating her. There are different settings on the machine, I need to check what she should have been using."

"Okay. We have a while until then, I'm gonna start checking the bed sheets."

"I'll come and find you when I'm ready to leave," said Grissom.

"Sure, I'll probably be in the layout room."

----

"Dr. Grissom? I'm Dr. Mathieson," a woman's voice announced. Grissom and Sara stood up and found a woman aged about forty approaching them, her hand outstretched.

"Thank you for meeting with us, doctor. This is Sara Sidle," said Grissom, shaking the woman's hand as he made the introduction.

"Please, come through to the lab and we can talk there," smiled the doctor, leading them down a corridor and into the hospital's sleep lab. "Now, do you have specific questions about Ms Hawkins, or do you just want me to try to enlighten you about sleep apnoea in general."

"We really need to know what settings Ms Hawkins CPAP machine should have been on, so we can verify it was set properly when she died," explained Grissom.

"I can pull that information for you," she nodded, walking to her computer as they reached her office and tapping the keyboard. "I'll have it printed out when you leave."

"Thanks. We also need to learn about sleep apnoea. As I explained on the phone, I've heard of it, but never had a chance to study it in detail," said Grissom.

"What would you like to know?"

"Would it be possible, if Ms Hawkins was using the machine properly, that her condition could worsen suddenly, enough that the machine wouldn't be enough and she would stop breathing permanently?"

"It's hard to say for sure, Dr Grissom, but it's unlikely. A dramatic deterioration is uncommon, it's more likely that it would happen slowly, and she would notice by becoming more tired during the day."

"But, if her machine was working, she shouldn't deteriorate at all?" he pressed.

"Not necessarily. As I said, she would be likely to notice any deterioration, but it could happen."

Dr Mathieson seemed to hesitate and Sara took the opportunity to ask the question.

"Doctor, is there anything else you can tell us?"

Grissom glanced at Sara, annoyed that she was interrupting his questioning, but she nodded her head in the direction of the doctor and waited for her to answer.

"Look, I'm only telling you this because I feel it could be important, but I'm not really sure how it could be," she started, before pausing again.

"Why don't you tell us and let us decide what's important?" suggested Sara softly.

"Well, I checked her notes after you called me this morning, Dr Grissom, and I noticed that she told me at her last annual check-up, which was a year ago this week, that she didn't use the machine at the weekends. Like I said, it's probably not important because she died on a Tuesday and you said she was using the machine, but I thought I should mention it."

"Why didn't she use the machine at the weekends? Shouldn't she have used it every night?" asked Grissom, catching Sara's eye and silently thanking her for pursuing the line of questioning.

"Because of her boyfriend." Noticing the confused looks of the CSIs, she explained, "The machines aren't exactly conducive to love-making, and Jennifer told me that her boyfriend didn't like the noise so she didn't use it even after they'd had sex and were going to sleep."

"Her boyfriend only stayed over on weekends?" asked Sara immediately.

"Yes. Of course, that could have changed in the last year, she might not even have the same boyfriend."

"According to her neighbours, she's been seeing the same guy for about 18 months," said Sara to Grissom's unasked question. He nodded and Sara asked, "Was it dangerous for her to not use the machine?"

"Yes and no. The machine is really there to relieve some of the effects of sleep apnoea, the tiredness and headaches during the day. She said that she could handle them at the weekends, so she made the decision not to use it then. We can only provide the equipment, we can't force patients to use it."

"So, if she wasn't using the machine and her condition had worsened, would her boyfriend notice?" quizzed Sara, a theory forming in her mind.

"I can't say for sure, but I would think so. Usually a bed partner wakens when someone stops breathing next to them, it seems to be instinctive."

"And he would wake her up?"

"Not necessarily. Waking a sleep apnoea sufferer isn't always the best method, as their body should do it themselves, when they're ready. If they stop breathing for more than a couple of minutes though, they should be woken."

Grissom realized they weren't going to get much more down that route and decided to change track.

"If someone is using a CPAP machine, what difference is there in sleeping pattern between them and someone who doesn't suffer from sleep apnoea?"

"Look, I could try explaining it to you, but I'm not sure it would make sense," said Dr Mathieson. "It can be quite difficult to understand. I have a patient coming in for their annual sleep monitoring session tonight. I'll need to check with her, but I don't think she'd mind if you both wanted to come in and watch," she suggested.

"Watch her sleep?" said Sara.

"Yes, it might help you to put things in perspective, although, you'd need to have something to compare it to. Have either of you ever watched someone sleep before, a partner maybe?" she asked both Sara and Grissom, turning to each of them. They both shook their heads and Dr Mathieson sighed, thinking things through. "I usually have research going on, where we study people who don't suffer from sleep apnoea so we can find out what the triggers are, but I don't have any programmes going on right now, so there's no-one I can call on to come in tonight. It would be much easier if you could watch a sufferer and non-sufferer at the same time, but I guess I can dig out a tape of a non-sufferer and get their permission."

"There's no need," interrupted Grissom, "we can provide someone." Sara smiled, thinking Grissom was going to involve Greg in one of his experiments again, but the smile fell when she heard his next words. "Just tell Sara what she needs to bring."

"What?!" exclaimed Sara. "No way, Grissom, I'm not sleeping here."

"Someone needs to Sara, we don't have time to waste on this."

"Well, you do it and I'll watch," she suggested.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Supervisor perks," he smirked.

Sara let out an exasperated sigh and turned to Dr Mathieson to ask what she needed to bring.

"Just what you need for an overnight stay," the doctor replied. "Pajamas, toiletries, etc."

"Uh, no way."

"What's wrong, Sara?" asked Grissom.

"I am not wearing pajamas here, in public, while being watched. Experiment or not, you can forget it, Grissom."

"Just wear something comfortable, Sara, something you can sleep in," he said, his irritation beginning to show.

"Why do _I_ have to do this, why not Nick or Warrick?"

"Because you're working this case."

"Fine," she sighed, obviously annoyed.

"Oh, by the way, Dr Mathieson," said Grissom as they were leaving, "when was Ms Hawkins next due for a visit to the sleep clinic?"

"Tonight, actually. Ms Sidle will be taking her place."

Grissom and Sara shared a 'raised eyebrows' look as they thanked the doctor and left.

----

Grissom finished handing out the assignments and inwardly groaned as he noticed the smirks Nick and Warrick were sending Sara's way.

"Any questions?" he asked, staring at each person in turn. Everyone shook their head and Grissom continued, "Good. If anyone needs me, page me, as I don't know if I'll be allowed to keep my cellphone on."

"You got your teddy bear with you, Sara?" laughed Nick, earning himself a glare.

"Grissom, why can't Nick be the patient tonight, huh?" pleaded Sara.

"It's your case, Sara," replied Grissom.

"Yeah, but shouldn't I be watching the experiment as well?"

"Sara."

"Look, Grissom, I don't sleep at home when I'm alone, so what makes you think I'll sleep in a lab where I know I'm being watched?" she said with exasperation, her tone showing she wasn't happy with the situation.

"The subject isn't up for discussion," he replied firmly, noticing the looks on his co-workers faces and not wanting to be drawn into a public argument with Sara. "Get your things together and be in my office in ten minutes," he instructed, stalking from the room before she could offer another excuse.

"Good luck, Sara," said Warrick genuinely as he left the room to start work on his case.

"Yeah, enjoy your sleep," teased Nick, ducking as a cushion from the couch made its way towards his back.

"Just try to relax, Sara, you'll be fine," said Catherine with a comforting smile.

"Easy for you to say," replied Sara, watching her co-workers leave to start their shifts. She let out a long-suffering sigh and headed to the locker room to collect her overnight bag, still trying to think of ways to get her out of participating in the sleep study. It wasn't that she didn't want to help, but the thought of anyone, especially Grissom, watching her sleep was extremely disconcerting. She hadn't lied earlier when she said she didn't sleep at home and she knew it would be nearly impossible for her to even doze in the sleep lab, never mind fall into the deep sleep that she knew was necessary for true comparison. She had stayed at work for most of the day, only going home to shower, change and pack a bag, in the hope that she would be tired enough to sleep more easily, but she could tell it would be futile.

Grabbing her bag from her locker, she opened it and double-checked she had everything she needed. She realized she'd forgotten her shower gel and shampoo and grabbed the bottles she kept in her locker. Stuffing them into the bag, she re-zipped it and started a slow walk to Grissom's office, trying to stall the inevitable for as long as possible.

----

TBC…


	2. Part 2

Disclaimers, etc. in Part 1

A/N: I forgot to mention in the first part, a HUGE thanks to Ellen for being beta reader for this fic. :-) Also, I apologize if I have made any factual errors with regard to sleep apnoea. My best friend suffers from this and, therefore, I know a little about it, but I'm by no means an expert - I can attest to how much noise the machines make though!! g

A/N 2: Thank you so much for the reviews, keep them coming :-)

2/4

----

"Dr Grissom, Ms Sidle, I'm Beth Scott, I'm on duty at the sleep lab tonight," a nurse said, offering her hand in introduction. "If you'd like to follow me, I'll take you to meet the patient we'll be studying tonight."

"Thank you," nodded Grissom, allowing Sara to proceed him down the corridor.

"Kesla, this is Dr Grissom and Sara Sidle from the Crime Lab; this is Kesla Taylor."

"Thank you for allowing us to monitor you tonight, Ms Taylor," said Grissom.

"Please, call me Kesla and it's no problem, I'm used to being watched while I sleep now."

"I don't know how anyone can get used to that," muttered Sara, not noticing the smirk that adorned Grissom's face as he heard her words. He was enjoying her discomfort far too much for his own good, but he couldn't help himself.

"I'm sure you probably have some questions to ask Kesla before we start, but I should just explain the way this will work tonight," said Beth. "Although we can tell how bad Kesla's condition is just by monitoring the required output of the CPAP machine, we're going to do a brief trial without the machine. It will only require Kesla going into a deep sleep for a short period of time and then I'll wake her up, so she shouldn't have any lasting side effects. Once I've noted her condition without the machine, she will go back onto it and will use that for the rest of the night. Now, I understand that you're to undergo monitoring as well, Sara, so that Dr Grissom can compare you both and understand more about the sleep apnoea condition?" Sara nodded and Beth continued, "Okay, well how about I show you to the room you'll be using and then you can ask any questions?"

"Yeah, okay," agreed Sara reluctantly.

"Your room is right next to Kesla's, but there's a wall between you and you each have your own bathroom. There is a one-way viewing wall which Dr Grissom and I will be behind and we'll be able to hear you at all times and communicate with you when we need to," explained Beth as they entered Sara's room for the night. "If you have any problems at all, just let me know by talking, okay?" she smiled.

"Yeah, thanks," said Sara, still trying to look as though she was comfortable with the situation when she most certainly wasn't.

They returned to the main lab to join Grissom and Kesla, who were talking about when Kesla was first diagnosed with sleep apnoea.

"So, you've been visiting the sleep clinic here for five years then?" he asked.

"Yes," she nodded. "It was kind of weird the first time, so I can entirely understand why Sara doesn't feel comfortable."

Sara caught the tail-end of this conversation and was a little surprised to find she was part of the topic.

"Kesla, are you ready for some cocoa?" asked Beth.

"Of course, what else do you think I come here for besides the cocoa?" she laughed, turning to explain to Grissom and Sara, "Beth makes the best cocoa I've ever tasted and I always have some when I'm here, it helps me to get to sleep more easily."

"Sara, would you like some as well?"

"Yeah, thanks, Beth, that would be good," replied Sara, wondering when she'd last had a cup of cocoa and thinking that it wasn't likely to really help send her to sleep.

"Dr Grissom, would you like some coffee, since we both have to stay awake tonight?"

"Yes, thanks."

Beth left the room and Sara took the opportunity to really appraise Kesla for the first time. She looked to be in her early 30's and was obviously a people person, since she wasn't phased in the slightest by the thought of Grissom watching her sleep.

"How do you find having to use a machine every night when you sleep?" asked Sara. "I believe they can be rather loud, does it get annoying?"

"No, not really, you get used to it I guess," shrugged Kesla. "The only time it really causes a problem is with my boyfriend."

"He doesn't like the machine?"

"It's not that, well not really." Looking at both Grissom and Sara, she elaborated, "It's not exactly conducive to love-making, shall we say," she smiled. "I mean, obviously, I only need to use the machine for sleeping, but it kinda kills the spontaneity, you know? Mike, my boyfriend, can't wake me up first thing in the morning by kissing me, as he has to remove the mask first."

"I've heard you can use a nasal canula instead of a mask though," commented Grissom. "Have you never considered that?"

"I tried that at first, but I didn't like it and decided on the mask instead. Like I said, it's not really a major problem. Mike is great about it, much better than my last boyfriend, he said the machine got on his nerves and kept him awake all night."

"I think I'd rather be kept awake by the machine than kept awake thinking my girlfriend was going to stop breathing at any moment," said Grissom.

"That's what Mike says," smiled Kesla. "He says he's got used to it now, though he still finds that his breathing tends to regulate to mine, because he can hear it through the machine, but he doesn't mind."

"He sounds like quite a guy," said Sara.

"He is."

"Drinks are up," announced Beth as she re-entered the room and placed their mugs on the table.

Just as Grissom reached for a mug, his pager went off. Glancing at the number, he excused himself to use the phone in the side office.

"So, Dr Grissom is your boss?" asked Kesla after Grissom left. Sara nodded. "It must be kinda weird for you then, huh? I mean, having to sleep in front of a stranger is bad enough, but in front of your boss?"

"Believe me, Grissom and his experiments have had me in weirder situations," said Sara wryly.

"Ooh, that sounds intriguing, do share," encouraged Beth with a laugh.

Any elaborations from Sara were prevented by the re-appearance of Grissom.

"That was Brass," he informed Sara. "He's finally tracked down Jennifer Hawkins boyfriend to his brother's place in Laughlin, he's bringing him in for questioning tomorrow."

"It's taken them this long to find him at his brother's?"

"I know, but Brass said it was difficult to get any personal information about him, not even from his work file."

"Well, maybe we should talk to him tonight?" she suggested hopefully.

"We're here now, I think we should keep to the original plan, we still need to understand what the machine does so that we can ascertain if there was any way foul play could have been involved." Sara's hopeful face fell and Grissom chuckled, "Nice try though."

"Do you have any questions before we begin?" asked Beth, looking at both Sara and Grissom.

"I'm fine," shrugged Sara.

"I'll ask as we go along, if that's okay?" replied Grissom.

"No problem. Kesla, you know the drill. Get changed and leave the machine off for now. I'll be there in a few minutes to hook up the heart monitor."

"Heart monitor?" queried Grissom.

"Yes, because she won't be using the machine, I need to monitor her heart, so I can record when she stops breathing and how long it is before she wakes herself up," explained Beth. "Sara, you can just go ahead and get ready, I'm not going to monitor your heart, but we will use the microphone next to the bed to study your breathing pattern."

"Okay," nodded Sara, standing up and starting to leave the room.

"I hope you don't snore, Sara," chuckled Kesla as they left.

----

Grissom and Beth chatted while waiting for Sara and Kesla to change and enter their rooms. Grissom gently probed Beth for what she could remember about Jennifer Hawkins, but she wasn't able to tell him too much without access to the notes, and Dr Mathieson had those locked away.

"Ah, they're ready," said Beth suddenly, noticing both Kesla and Sara emerging from their respective bathrooms into their rooms.

Grissom took in the sight before him. Sara was dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, obviously feeling uncomfortable as she looked at the wall she knew Grissom was behind. His eyes switched to Kesla and found her wearing flannel pajamas under a robe, discarding the robe as she climbed into bed.

"Everything okay, Sara?" asked Grissom over the intercom while Beth attended to Kesla.

Sara started to nod and then remembered that he could hear her if she spoke.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just wondering how the hell I'm supposed to sleep."

"I'm sure you'll manage if you try, you usually achieve anything you set your mind to," he smiled.

"Not always," she muttered under her breath, but she was so close to the microphone by the bed that Grissom caught her words. He swallowed hard as he fought the urge to respond, even with a smart-ass comment. "So, what do I have to do, just go to sleep? Do I need to wait until Kesla falls asleep?" asked Sara.

"I don't think so, I just need to be able to compare your breathing patterns. I'm not sure if the sleep apnoea really has anything to do with this or not, but I need to understand it properly."

"You know, since Kesla is going to be woken up later to switch the machine on, I could really watch what's going on with her now and then sleep once she has the machine on," said Sara.

"Yes, you could," agreed Grissom, "but it's probably easier if you just try to sleep now anyway. I'll waken you when Kesla is going to go onto the machine, so I can compare accurately."

"Fine," grumbled Sara, finally climbing into bed.

Grissom watched as she tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position. He noticed Beth leaving the other room and briefly checking on Sara before joining Grissom in the lab.

"Do you have any questions, Dr Grissom?"

"Not so far, I just want to watch and listen."

"No problem. You'll see me make a few notes as the night progresses, so if you want to know anything, just ask. If there's anything I can't answer, I'll pass it on to Dr Mathieson and she can contact you."

"Thank you."

"Is Sara okay?" asked Beth, observing her squirming around in the bed.

"She hasn't said she isn't," said Grissom nonchalantly.

After about ten minutes, Grissom saw that Kesla had started to fall asleep, but Sara was still struggling. She finally gave up all pretences and looked directly at the one-way viewing wall.

"I can't do this, Grissom!" she said sharply.

"Sara, just try," he sighed through the intercom.

"You try!" she yelled.

Grissom let out an annoyed puff of air and, excusing himself from Beth, made his way towards Sara's room. She heard the door opening and turned shocked eyes to her boss; she had not expected him to actually enter the room where she was supposed to be sleeping.

"Sara, this is important. I'm supposed to be out there studying Kesla, but I need you to concentrate and fall asleep," he said gently.

"I'm trying, Grissom, but it's not that simple," she said seriously, but with a soft voice.

"I know, but you must be tired, you just pulled a double shift."

"I am tired," she admitted, "but I just can't sleep. I'm never good at sleeping, I've told you that before. I did tell you that you should have got someone else to do this," she pointed out.

"You make for a better comparison, since you're roughly the same age and size as Jennifer Hawkins. Is there anything I can do to help you sleep?" Sara looked at him with an amused smirk and Grissom smirked back. "You know what I mean." Suddenly, Sara let out a yawn and Grissom laughed. "Either I'm boring you, or you might be ready to sleep now."

"You really want me to comment on that?" she grinned.

"Go to sleep, Sara," he laughed, silently leaving the room.

----

"You see how Sara's breathing pattern is rhythmic, following a steady pattern?" said Beth as she and Grissom monitored the breathing patterns of Sara and Kesla. "You heard when she slipped into the REM state and she's now in a deep sleep. With Kesla though, her breathing is more laboured and you can hear it becoming irregular, even though she too has passed the REM state. Probably within a few minutes, Kesla will stop breathing. It shouldn't be for long, you'll see how her automatic body functions take over and wake her up."

"How long do you expect her breathing to stop for?" asked Grissom, studying Kesla's heart monitor carefully.

"I would estimate around a couple of minutes, based on her notes from previous visits. If it's any longer than that, we may need to adjust some settings on her machine, as her current settings may not be enough to cope with the change in her condition." Grissom nodded his understanding just as Beth continued, "Her breathing has just stopped."

As Beth had suspected, it was nearly two minutes later when Kesla woke herself up so that her breathing could start again.

A theory was starting to form in Grissom's mind and he asked what he knew could be a very pertinent question.

"You said that, if Kesla's condition had worsened, her machine may not be able to cope with its current settings?"

"Yes."

"Is it possible that, if Ms Hawkins condition worsened, her machine would not be enough to prevent her from stopping breathing?"

"It's _possible_, but she would know if that was the case, as she'd start getting the symptoms of sleep apnoea again, the headaches and tiredness during the day."

"Yes, but if it happened recently and she was due to visit here tonight, she could have planned to wait and just get the new settings tonight, rather than making a special visit," mused Grissom.

"That's possible," agreed Beth. "I guess we'll never know for sure though."

"Maybe, maybe not."

"I'm going to wake up Kesla and get her started on the machine," said Beth.

"Okay, I think I'll waken Sara so I can compare their sleep from the start again," said Grissom, following her out of the lab.

----

Grissom closed the door to Sara's room behind him, trying to make as much noise as possible, as he wanted her to wake up without him having to actually rouse her. Unfortunately, the almost slamming of the door did not do the trick and his feet stomping across the room didn't work either. He was left with only one other option, shaking her awake. He considered just letting her sleep, especially since he didn't know how easy she would find it to get back to sleep, but he really wanted to monitor her from the start again, in relation to Kesla when she used the machine.

"Sara," he whispered, crouching down beside her bed. No response. "Sara," he tried again, a little louder this time. She still didn't stir and he placed a hand onto her arm gently, shaking her a little. "Sara," he said again as he shook, "you need to wake up now."

"Mmm, 'nother few minutes," she mumbled.

"Sara, I'm sorry, but you need to wake up. You can go back to sleep soon."

"Grissom?" she said as she sleepily opened her eyes. It took her a moment, but she soon remembered where she was and started to sit up. "I guess I fell asleep after all, huh?" she grinned.

"Yeah, you did," he smiled. "I'm sorry I had to wake you, but Kesla's putting her machine on now."

"Oh. Did you find anything useful when you watched her without the machine."

"I think so," he nodded. "I want to go watch Kesla set her machine up, will you be okay?"

"Sure, just let me know when I can go back to sleep," she yawned.

"For someone who didn't want to sleep in the first place, you're doing a pretty good impression of a tired person," he smirked.

"Just helping you out, boss," she grinned.

Grissom shook his head as he left to check on Kesla.

"Is it okay if I come in?" he asked hesitantly, standing just outside the door to Kesla's room.

"Sure, the more the merrier," laughed Kesla.

"I wanted to observe you setting up the machine and thought it might be easier to view it directly," he explained.

"No problem," she smiled. "Beth is just making a note of the settings, to make sure I haven't accidentally changed them or anything."

"This is your machine from home?" said Grissom with surprise.

"Yes, we ask all patients to bring their machines so that we can check they're using them properly," said Beth.

Nodding, Grissom watched as Kesla double-checked the settings and then put the mask over her face, positioned the tubes and settled back into the bed. She sat up a moment later and removed the mask.

"Problem?" asked Grissom.

"Yeah, the elastic on the mask is twisted and it's digging into the back of my head," said Kesla.

"Really?" said Grissom, instantly interested in her comment.

"Yeah, I guess it's the short hair that make me feel it so much, but if I was to lie like that all night, it would drive me nuts."

His earlier theory was becoming ever more clearer in Grissom's mind and he made a mental note of Kesla's remark before turning to Beth.

"I think it might be useful to monitor Sara's heart this time," he said.

"Really?"

"Yes, I think it'll give me a better overall picture."

"Will she be okay with that?" asked Beth.

"She'll just have to be," shrugged Grissom, returning to the lab and leaving Beth to give the 'good news' to Sara.

He entered the lab just in time to hear Sara's comment about payback and he couldn't help the smirk on his face when Beth returned.

"I don't think you're her favourite person right now," smiled Beth.

"Nothing new," he grinned.

"Sara," he said over the intercom, "you can go back to sleep now." She merely grunted in response, flipped over onto her side, found the heart monitor was restraining her and turned onto her back before closing her eyes.

----

"Mmm, Griss," mumbled Sara.

In the viewing lab, Grissom sat up straight, eyes wide as he registered Sara's words.

"Did she just…?" he asked Beth.

"Yeah," she smiled. "Are you two…?"

"No! No, we're not," he said firmly. Looking at Sara, he said," She's just messing with us."

"She's not," replied Beth. "Look at her heart rate and listen to her breathing, she's in the REM phase of sleep."

Grissom wanted to argue, but the evidence was there and he had no rebuttal.

"She's probably just thinking about a case," he said weakly a few moments later.

"Yeah, because everyone uses that tone when they're thinking about a case," grinned Beth. "Oh, that reminds me," she continued, "I assume you want a tape of tonight's studies?"

"Tape?"

"Yes, we record everything that goes on with the studies. I already cleared it with Kesla that you could have a copy if you wanted and I can give the master copy of Sara's, since we don't need it for anything."

"Uh, yes, thanks," said Grissom. "I should probably take them, in case I need to refer to them as evidence."

"No problem, you'll have them before you leave."

----

Sara woke up and looked around for a few moments trying to get her bearings. Remembering where she was, she glared at the one-way viewing wall.

"Morning, Grissom," she said, her tone not angry, but not exactly full of sunshine either.

"Morning, Sara," came his voice a moment later. "Sleep well?"

The mirth in his voice was obvious and Sara scowled.

"Oh yeah, it was a riot, you should try," she said dryly.

"I think I'll pass. There will be coffee here when you're ready."

Sara nodded, got out of bed, grabbed her bag and headed for the bathroom. She emerged around fifteen minutes later, freshly showered and dressed. Checking the room over to make sure she had everything, she left and headed for the viewing lab, where she found Beth, Grissom and Kesla waiting for her.

"Hi, Sara," said Beth and Kesla in unison.

"Morning," she replied, trying to appear cheerful, though she scowled at Grissom when she caught his smirk. He wordlessly handed her a cup of coffee.

"So, you got everything you needed, Dr Grissom?" asked Kesla.

"Yes, thank you for agreeing to this Kesla, it's been very helpful."

"No problem. If you need anything else, you have my number," she smiled. "I'm going to get going, Beth," she continued. "I have today off and Mike isn't going to work until later, so I want to go say hi."

"Sure, Kesla. Dr Mathieson will be in touch to discuss the results, but I don't think any of your settings need to be changed."

"Great, thanks. It was good meeting you, Dr Grissom, Sara," she said genuinely, looking at each of them in turn.

"You too, thanks again," said Grissom, shaking her hand.

"Yeah, thanks, Kesla," said Sara, still sipping her coffee.

"I'll just go and make a copy of Kesla's tape for you," said Beth, exiting the room with Kesla.

"So, was this actually any use?" asked Sara as soon as she and Grissom were alone.

"Yes, I think it was. I have a theory I want to check out, but it involves us going back to the victim's house."

"Okay. What's the theory?"

"I don't want to say right now," said Grissom, prompting a somewhat hurt and confused look from Sara. "I need to experiment and I think if I clued you in now, the experiment wouldn't be as realistic."

"I'm sure that makes sense to you, somehow," smiled Sara.

----

TBC…


	3. Part 3

Disclaimers, etc. in Part 1

A/N: Sorry this part is so short, but it wouldn't let me post the final part as one chapter, so I had to split it somewhere

3/4

----

"So, you gonna tell me exactly what we're doing here and why it couldn't have waited until after we interview the boyfriend?" demanded Sara as soon as she and Grissom stepped into the house rented to Jennifer Hawkins.

"As I said, an experiment," he replied cryptically, infuriating Sara further.

"Yes, I know that, but what _kind_ of experiment?"

"It was something Kesla said last night, I just need to check it out."

"Okay. What do you need me to do?"

"Lie on the bed," he instructed, walking into the bedroom with Sara following close behind.

"_What_?"

"Lie on the bed," he repeated.

"Why do I need to… Oh, never mind," said Sara, obviously giving up and deciding it was easier just to go along with whatever Grissom had in mind. "Need me to get into my pajamas again?" she asked sarcastically. Grissom said nothing and she let out a sigh of frustration before climbing onto the bed and lying on her back. "What now?" she asked, looking at Grissom for an answer.

"I just need to think for a moment, work out the best way to do this," said Grissom.

"Do what?"

"Sara."

"Sorry, it's that over-talking thing," she shrugged self-deprecatingly.

"I noticed you even do that in your sleep," said Grissom without thinking.

"_What_?!"

"Oh, uh…"

"Grissom, what did you mean by that?" she demanded.

"You were talking in your sleep," he replied, giving no more away than he had to.

"What did I say?" she asked, obviously worried.

"I don't know, couldn't make it out," he lied.

"Oh, okay," she said with a sigh of relief.

Grissom contemplated for a few moments and then retrieved something from his field kit. Approaching the bed, he dropped down onto the other side from Sara, startling her.

"What are you doing?" she asked with shock.

"You remember how the sheets were a little rumpled on this side, but not enough for someone to have slept here all night?"

"Yes."

"I'm thinking that there was someone here, but only for a short time. Here, put this on," he requested, hading Sara an identical face mask to that worn by the victim.

Sara did as he asked and sat up to place the mask over her head. She was about to lie back down when Grissom's hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Hang on a second, I need to adjust something," he said gently, moving his hands to the back of her head. Sara nodded and waited patiently for him to finish before lying down again. She had only been lying for a few moments when she shot back up again, reaching for the elastic of the mask at the back of her head.

"Damn, Grissom, what did you do to this thing?" she muttered, pulling at the elastic.

"You could feel the twist?" he asked.

"Yeah, of course I could, it feels like a huge knot. Wait, you _knew_ about it?"

"Yes, it's part of the experiment." Sara just looked at him and he explained, "Kesla had the same problem when she put the mask on last night and it reminded me of something I saw here when we processed the vic. I checked back through the photos and found the one we took when we turned her over. In that, the elastic of the mask is clearly twisted behind her head. I needed to check that, using the same pillows, she would have felt it. You have roughly the same hair length and thickness, so here we are."

"And I felt it, so that means…" she said, following his train of thought.

"That the mask was more than likely placed over her head after she was already dead," he finished.

"The boyfriend?"

"More than likely, but we have no evidence of that," warned Grissom. "We can see what he says at the interview though."

"Well, let's get going," said Sara, starting to get off the bed. Once again, Grissom placed a hand on her arm to stop her.

"Wait, we still have to figure out if she could have had the mask on at all and had it removed while she was asleep."

"If it was the boyfriend, would she have been wearing the mask? We heard what Dr Mathieson said, she didn't wear the mask when he was here."

"We don't know that for sure, Sara, it's pure conjecture. He could have changed his mind about that since her last check-up or, even if he hadn't, the victim could have decided to wear it that night, since she was working the next day; it's not likely she would have wanted to have the sleep apnoea symptoms at work."

"True," she agreed. "So, what do you need me to do?"

"Lie back down with the mask on properly, get comfortable."

"Okay," she nodded, doing as he said.

"Close your eyes," he said softly, his breath very close to her ear as he leaned partially over her.

Once her eyes were closed, Grissom appraised the situation, trying to work out the best way to remove the mask without disturbing Sara too much that, had she been asleep, it would wake her.

He slowly placed one hand over the front of the mask and started to pull it out towards him, away from Sara's face.

"Grissom?" she queried.

"Just let me do this, Sara and then tell me how much of it you could feel. I need to know if you think it would be enough to waken you."

"I'm a light sleeper though, we don't know about the victim," she pointed out.

"Let's just try this for now."

He pulled the mask again, but saw that Sara's head was starting to move as well, in relation to the pressure on the elastic behind her head. Knowing that the victim would have woken with that, he replaced the mask and thought of another way. Once again, he placed a hand on the front on the mask but, this time, he also gently levered his other hand behind Sara's head, starting to grip the elastic.

Working very slowly, he managed to move the mask and elastic up and away from her head. Sara opened her eyes and found him looking down at her, the mask in his left hand and his right hand still under her head.

"Hey," she smiled,

"How much did you feel?" he asked, lowering her head gently and removing his hand.

"Actually, not that much the second time," she said quietly, instinctively keeping her voice low due to the fact that Grissom was still hovered over her, his eyes locked with hers.

"So, if the vic was using the machine that night, even if her boyfriend was staying over, it's possible he could have removed the mask while she was asleep, without her ever knowing," theorized Grissom, tearing his gaze from Sara and lying back beside her on the bed.

"I guess," said Sara, "but why would he? I mean, if he wanted to kill her, he'd have to know that her condition had worsened and, if he knew, she'd have to know as well because of the symptoms resurfacing."

"Yes, but she was due at the clinic last night so, if her condition started getting worse recently, she might have just decided to wait to discuss it then."

"Ah, okay," she nodded. "Still though, what motive would the boyfriend have? And, if he was going to kill her, why do it this way?"

"To make it seem like natural causes, due to the sleep apnoea."

"Yeah, but surely he knew questions would be asked?"

"A killer doesn't always think logically, Sara, you know that."

"We still need a motive though."

"Yes, we do. Maybe our discussion with the boyfriend will cast some light in that area," said Grissom. "Brass should have him there by now."

Grissom stood up from the bed and walked around to Sara's side, offering her a hand to help her up. She gripped it lightly and stood, coming face-to-face with him, mere inches apart.

"Thanks," she said quietly, dropping her gaze to her shoes. "Hey, how could the boyfriend have done it? There were no prints other than the vic's on the face mask and the boyfriend couldn't really wear gloves without her wondering what was going on, could he?"

"He could have pulled them on after she fell asleep. Let's go," said Grissom, picking up the face mask he'd brought with him, having requested it from Beth at the hospital, and leading the way to the door.

----

Sara, Grissom and Brass took their seats opposite Adam Ferris, Jennifer Hawkins' boyfriend, and all looked at him carefully. They'd already appraised him from behind the one-way glass and thought he seemed too 'cool, calm and collected' for someone whose girlfriend had just died.

"How long had you and Miss Hawkins been dating?" asked Brass as an opening question.

"About 18 months," he replied nonchalantly.

"We've been told you only saw each other at weekends," continued Brass. "Isn't that a little strange when you've been together that long?"

"Not really," he shrugged. "We're both busy people and like to be on our own, we need our own space. Weekends are times when we don't have to worry about getting up for work the next day, so we can relax. We did meet up during the week, we just didn't stay over. Jen didn't like to carry her machine around, in case it got damaged, and I like to be at home during the week, as I often work late at night."

"You're a computer programmer?" said Brass, checking the file in front of him.

"Yes," confirmed Ferris, holding Brass's gaze.

"And Jennifer worked in a law office?"

"Yeah, she was an office manager."

"When did you go to your brother's?"

"Tuesday morning."

"And you were there until we picked you up this morning?"

"Yes."

"Do you always go out of town during the week, when you're supposed to be working?" Ferris merely shrugged. "I thought you were a busy person, yet you found time to do that?"

"I hadn't seen him for a while. His wife has just had a kid, so I thought I should say hi to my new nephew."

Brass, Grissom and Sara shared dubious looks before Brass continued the questioning.

"When did you last see Jennifer?"

"Sunday night, I left her place around 7."

"Did you talk to her after that?"

"No."

"Did she know you were going to your brother's?"

"Probably not."

"You didn't tell her?"

"I told her about my nephew, I don't know if I told her when I was planning to visit."

"You didn't remind her on Sunday night that you'd be out of town most of this week?"

"No."

"Why not? What if she planned to stop by your place?"

"She never turned up unannounced, she'd always call first."

"And she didn't call at any time?"

"No."

"Do you have an answering machine at home?"

"Yeah."

"Have you checked your messages there?"

"No, everyone knows to contact me on my cell."

"Because you were going to your brother's?"

"No, people always use my cell," he shrugged.

"Did Jennifer always use your cell? She never called you at home?"

"She called me there once or twice, but usually on my cell."

"Would you mind if we visited your apartment, took a look around, maybe checked if Ms Hawkins left you any messages there?" asked Grissom, suddenly taking over the questioning.

"I don't see why you need to visit my apartment," said Ferris, regarding Grissom coolly.

"We'd like to check your voicemail messages," repeated Grissom.

"I can dial in remotely if you want, let you listen to them from here."

"You can dial in remotely?" queried Grissom, his interest piqued. "Have you dialled in already, while you've been at your brother's?"

"No, I never really bother to check. As I said, everyone knows to use my cell."

"If it's alright with you, I'd still like to visit your apartment and check the messages there, rather than dialling in."

"I guess that's alright, I don't have anything to hide," agreed Ferris.

----

TBC…


	4. Part 4

Disclaimers, etc. in Part 1

4/4

----

"Why didn't you just dial in to listen to the messages?" asked Sara of Grissom as they followed the squad car to Adam Ferris's apartment.

"Some answering machines can tell you when someone has dialled in," he informed her. "My one at home beeps to tell me there are messages but, if I've dialled in already to listen to them, it doesn't beep."

"What if there's been a new message since Ferris last dialled in though? Won't that start it beeping again?"

"Yes, but we'll just have to wait and see. His model of machine might not even beep, but it's something to find out."

"What do you make of Ferris?" she asked by way of continuing conversation.

"What do _you_ make of him?" replied Grissom, sending the question back to her.

"He doesn't seem too upset about his girlfriend's death," said Sara, deciding to let Grissom off the hook for the moment. "He also seemed a bit hesitant about letting us visit his apartment. Do you know if Brass has confirmed with his brother when he arrived?"

"He confirmed it just before we interviewed him. The brother says he arrived on Tuesday morning, but the brother was at work and it was his wife that let Ferris in. He was there most of the day, however, at night they went to his wife's mother's. She doesn't like Ferris, so he didn't go. He was there when they got back and they say they don't think he could possibly have gone out, but I say he had time to get to Vegas and back, just."

"But, we're assuming that the vic died while she was sleeping. If it was Ferris, could he really have killed her and got back to Laughlin before his brother got home?"

"It would be tight, but it's possible. The brother didn't get home until after midnight, as it was his mother-in-law's birthday and Laughlin is about a two hour drive from Vegas, at average speed. They went out at 6, so he could technically have driven to Vegas, killed her and driven back in plenty of time."

"Yeah, but I doubt the vic would have gone to bed that early, especially when she apparently wasn't used to him staying over during the week."

"Maybe she thought he was getting more serious," suggested Grissom. "We just have to wait and see what the evidence tells us. The time of death was around 10pm remember."

----

Ferris unlocked his apartment door and then stood aside as Grissom and Sara entered. He didn't look too nervous, but was still on edge and his eyes followed both CSIs as they moved around, taking in every detail.

"Can I make myself something to eat?" asked Ferris. "I didn't get any breakfast since your guys drove me back to Vegas."

"Sorry about that," said Brass dryly.

Grissom watched closely as Ferris moved to the kitchen and opened the fridge.

"You have quite a lot of perishable food for someone who was going to be out of town for nearly a week," commented Grissom from over Ferris's shoulder.

"Visiting with my nephew was kind of a spur of the moment decision," said Ferris, his nerves beginning to show.

Grissom merely nodded and returned to his perusal of the apartment. Sara was in the bedroom, checking the sheets.

"Find anything?" asked Grissom from the doorway.

"No sign of sex," replied Sara, "and it doesn't look like the bed has been slept in for a few days, as we would expect if he's been out of town."

"There was no sign of semen in Jennifer Hawkins' bed either, was there?"

"No," confirmed Sara. "It's possible she changed the sheets at the start of the week though."

"Yes, but it also means that, if he was there that night, he didn't have sex with her."

"Maybe he decided to come across as caring and said he just wanted to spend the night with her," suggested Sara with a shrug.

"We're still no closer to a motive though," said Grissom resignedly.

"I'm gonna keep looking around in here, I thought you were gonna check his messages?"

"Yeah, I am," nodded Grissom, moving away.

"I didn't hear a beep," commented Sara to his retreating back.

"Neither did I, but I noticed it flashing to show there is a message."

Grissom was right, there was a message, but it was blank and there was no number stored, even though the model of answering machine automatically dialled 'star69' to get the number of the person who called.

"Probably a sales call," shrugged Ferris, watching as Grissom made a note of the machine model number.

"Possibly. You said you didn't dial in to check your messages while you were out of town?"

"Right, I didn't see the need."

"Okay."

Grissom walked back into the bedroom and pulled out his cellphone, closing the door behind him and slightly startling Sara.

"Nick, it's Grissom. I need you to go out and buy the following model of answering machine…"

----

"So, this _is_ the type that beeps when there's a new message," said Sara as she and Grissom finished their test of the answering machine.

"Yes."

"So, Ferris lied, he _did_ dial in and check his messages."

"It seems that way. We don't know that there was another message though. It's possible there was and he deleted it when he dialled in, but we don't know for sure. Do we have the victim's phone records?"

"They just arrived a few hours ago, haven't had a time to look at them yet."

"Can you do that and let me know if you find Ferris's number, either home or cell, among them?"

"Sure," nodded Sara.

----

"She called him at home and must have left him a message," announced Sara about an hour later. "The call only lasted about 30 seconds."

"When did she call?"

"Tuesday evening."

"After he supposedly went out of town?"

"Yes," confirmed Sara.

"Did she call his cell after that, or receive a call from him?"

"No."

"I wonder what she said in the message that made him feel the need to delete it," mused Grissom.

"I was thinking about that," said Sara. "Suppose she had been getting the sleep apnoea symptoms again and wanted to ask him if he'd noticed her breathing stopping for longer at the weekend?"

"According to Dr Mathieson though, it would have been a gradual deterioration, not a sudden one. If it had gotten bad enough that being without the machine could kill her, she'd have probably asked him about it before then."

"But what if she had and he'd denied noticing anything? She could have called to ask him again, maybe after having a really bad headache or something?"

"It's pure conjecture, Sara, we have nothing to corroborate that."

"I know, but it's possible, isn't it?"

"Yes," agreed Grissom, though obviously not convinced. "Why would she call him at home though, if he says everyone uses his cell?"

"If she didn't know he was going out of town, she could have hoped to catch him at home after work. When she didn't find him there, she maybe didn't want to disturb him at work, so left a message?"

"If he went out of town and came back to see her, then killed her, it was pre-meditated," said Grissom. "We need a motive."

"I know. I think we need to go back to the vic's house, we didn't look around again the last time, we were too busy experimenting."

"You think we missed something during the initial processing?" he queried with surprise.

"I'm not sure, but I've looked through the photos again and something is just niggling at me."

----

Letting themselves into Jennifer Hawkins house once more, Sara and Grissom immediately started looking around. They didn't speak, just took out their flashlights and started searching over the now-familiar territory. Grissom headed for the bedroom, but Sara remained in the living room, casting her eye over the array of magazines on the coffee table and assortment of ornaments on the end tables and mantelpiece.

"Grissom?" called Sara. "Can you remember what was said about Jennifer Hawkins' family?"

"Parents died in a car crash when she was 18, she was an only child and moved to Vegas to be raised by her grandmother," replied Grissom after a few moments, re-joining her in the living room. "I think her grandmother died about two years ago."

"The background check on Ferris, what did it bring up? Any money problems?"

"Not that they've found so far, no. Why, what are you thinking?"

"I don't know, I just can't put my finger on it, but something's not right here."

"Here in general, or somewhere in particular?" he pressed.

"I don't know," she said, squinting her eyes as the position of the sun changed outside and shone directly in the window onto the end table just in front of Sara. "Wait, I _do_ know," she said suddenly, crouching down in front of the table. "Look at this, Grissom," she beckoned, waving her finger at him to draw him closer.

"What?" he asked, squatting down beside her.

"You see the sunspot, or lack of, here?" she said, pointing at the table. Grissom followed her finger, but seemed nonplussed.

"This area of the living room seems to be a bit of a suntrap," explained Sara. "You can see how the wood of the table has faded with time, due to the sun's rays?"

"Yes," nodded Grissom.

"When I processed in here the first time, it was dark, so I didn't notice anything unusual," continued Sara. "Now though, look at the area of darker wood on that table, something has been there until recently."

"Good catch, Sara," said Grissom seriously. "Any idea what it was?"

"It's an unusual pattern, but I've seen something very like it."

"Where?"

"In Ferris's bedroom, on his dresser." Grissom's eyes grew wide and he looked at her to continue. "I took a photo of it, it's in the file at the lab. It's hard to describe, but it's some kind of rose bowl ornament, probably a family heirloom, looked really antique… and expensive."

"You think theft was the motive?"

"I think we need to check Ferris's financial details more closely," replied Sara. "I think we also need to get a valuation on the ornament, find out what it's worth and see if Ferris can explain how it came to be in his possession."

----

"I talked to Ferris's bank," said Brass as he arrived in Grissom's office. "The large cash withdrawals that Sara mentioned he made a few months ago?" Grissom nodded. "Turns out they were to pay off gambling debts. That's not all though," he continued, raising a hand to stop Grissom from interrupting.

"Hang on, Jim, Sara should be here for this."

Grissom paged Sara and the two men waited in silence for her to arrive. Once she had entered the office and sat down, Brass re-iterated what he had already said.

"The _bank_ knew the money was for gambling debts?" said Sara doubtfully. "That's not something you'd really tell your bank manager, no matter how friendly they're supposed to be."

"I'm getting to that," said Brass. "Apparently, Ferris requested a loan a couple of months ago, a business loan." He stopped and watched Sara and Grissom for a moment, purely to antagonise them, before resuming his story. "The bank quizzed him about the withdrawals he'd been making and he admitted they were for debts, hoping to prove that it showed he now had them paid off and everything was under control. The bank told him that they couldn't help him, as they couldn't guarantee he wouldn't get into debt again, they also told him it was unlikely any other bank would help him. Apparently, Ferris was pretty pissed about it and said he'd find the money somehow."

"You said it was for a business loan? Ferris has a good job already, what does he want to do?" asked Grissom.

"He's developing some kind of internet security software and wants to market it himself. If he goes through his company, the Intellectual Property Rights contract he has with them would mean he wouldn't get much money from it, they'd reap the benefits instead, so he wanted the loan to quit his job and develop the software some more before finding a distributor."

"How much money did he want?"

"That's the good part," grinned Brass at Grissom's question. "He wanted ten thousand dollars."

"That's the approximate auction value of the rose bowl," said Sara immediately. "I told you it looked expensive," she added at Grissom's surprised expression.

"Yeah, let's see how Ferris explains _that_ little coincidence," smirked Brass.

----

"The rose bowl you have on the dresser in your bedroom, Mr Ferris," started Grissom as he sat across from the suspect in the interrogation room, "where did you get it?"

Ferris looked at his newly-acquired lawyer and waited for an indication before answering.

"It was a gift," he shrugged. "Family heirloom."

"_Your_ family?" asked Grissom.

The calm look on Ferris's face started to slip as he heard Grissom's question, but he plastered a nonchalant look back on and cleared his throat before answering.

"Yes."

From her position behind the viewing wall, Sara smiled, knowing that Ferris had just walked into Grissom's trap.

"How do you explain then that the rose bowl was in Jennifer Hawkins house until recently?"

"What?" said Ferris too quickly, sitting up straighter in his seat.

"This photo shows clearly where the rose bowl sat in her house until very recently, you can see where the surrounding wood of the table has been lightened by the sun, leaving darker wood in the pattern of the rose bowl."

"I uh… I didn't really have anywhere to display it, so I let her keep it at her place," said Ferris feebly.

"When did you take it back?"

"At the weekend."

"Why? Did you suddenly decide that your dresser was the best place to display its beauty?" said Grissom sarcastically.

"Jen wanted to put something else there, I forget what, so I said I'd take it back," he shrugged, but the tenseness in his shoulders was obvious.

"I hear you want to set up your own business?" asked Brass suddenly, drawing Ferris's gaze to him.

"So?"

"So, I heard the bank turned down your loan application." Ferris merely shrugged again. "Did you ask your girlfriend for a loan, when you heard that no bank would loan money to a self-confessed gambling addict?"

"I'm not an addict," said Ferris firmly. "In answer to your question though, no, I didn't ask Jen for money, why would I? She didn't have that kind of cash."

"That rose bowl is worth around the $10,000 you were looking for," commented Grissom calmly. Ferris looked at him. "We got it appraised after taking it from your apartment with a warrant. Turns out though, we could have saved ourselves the bother, as it was appraised just a few years ago, when it was left to Jennifer Hawkins in her grandmother's will."

Ferris's eyes registered shock and Sara beamed with pride at the slam dunk she knew Grissom had just scored.

"How did Jennifer actually die, Mr Ferris?" asked Grissom.

"How would I know? I wasn't there."

"Oh, I think we both know you were."

"I wasn't even in Vegas."

"You know, it's funny you should mention that," said Brass. "We ran your license plates and came up with nothing but, a couple of hours ago, we decided to run the plates of the cars belonging to your brother and his wife. Your sister-in-law's car was caught speeding on the night your girlfriend died."

"So?"

"So, it was caught on the interstate just leaving Vegas around 10:45pm. How is that possible when your sister-in-law was at her mom's that night?"

"I wouldn't know."

"We managed to get an image of the driver from the camera, looks a lot like you," said Brass as he placed a photo on the table. "You know, we also checked your brother's phone records. There was a call made from his house to Jennifer Hawkins house around 7pm on the night she died; was that you returning the message she left for you at home?"

"I never got any message from her, I told you that already. You checked my messages."

"We know she left you a message," said Grissom. "You dialled in from your brother's, or from your cellphone, and deleted it. I assume it was just after she left it on the Tuesday evening. You waited until your brother went out, which he said was around 6:45, you then returned Jennifer's call. Why did she call you? Was she concerned that she had a bad headache and was thinking her sleep apnoea was getting worse? You then took your sister-in-law's car and drove to Las Vegas to see Jennifer. Since you didn't have your own car, it's not surprising that the neighbours didn't notice you there, but you were there. What did you do, suggest an early night? Tell her that you'd be there to see if she was getting any worse and wake her up if she did?" Ferris said nothing and Grissom went in for the kill. "Her sleep apnoea _was_ getting worse, wasn't it? You knew it and you knew that _she'd_ know it once she attended the sleep clinic. You had asked her to sell the rose bowl and loan you the money, but she refused. You decided to get it anyway and knew you had an easy opportunity because, when you stayed over at weekends and slept beside her when she didn't use the machine, you noticed that her periods of not breathing were getting longer each time. What were you doing, waiting so long and then waking her up so that she didn't realise quite how bad it was getting? Then, on that Tuesday night, you agreed to sleep beside her when she was _using_ the machine, just to give her a safety net if her settings weren't good enough to keep her breathing. Instead though, you carefully removed the mask and waited while she stopped breathing and then you didn't waken her, she didn't wake up. I'm interested to know what you would have done if her body had _actually_ automatically woken her, but it doesn't matter, you didn't waken her, so you effectively killed her."

"You can't prove any of that," said Ferris, his lawyer nodding.

"We have enough evidence to arrest you and we have a motive, the theft of the rose bowl," stated Brass.

"She gave that to me as a gift," claimed Ferris.

"That's not what you said earlier," reminded Brass.

"You made one major mistake when you removed her mask," said Grissom, fixing Ferris with a look. "When you put it back on her face, after she was dead, you didn't realize there was a twist in the elastic behind her head. She could never have slept with it like that, so she definitely did not put that mask on, _you_ did. You must have worn gloves, slipped them on while she was asleep, but even the most careful killers make mistakes, as you've proved and I know that, if we keep looking, we'll find another one."

"For now though," interrupted Brass, "you're under arrest for murder."

----

"Hey," said Sara from Grissom's doorway, causing him to look up and meet her gaze.

"Hi."

"Here's my report on the Hawkins murder," she said, stepping into the office and placing a file on his desk.

"Thanks, I'll sign off on it later, I'm just finishing mine." Sara didn't leave and Grissom looked at her curiously. "Anything else?"

"Uh, yeah…" His raised eyebrows prompted her to finish what she was saying. "The tape that was made of me at the sleep clinic, you don't need it anymore, do you?"

"No."

"Good. Can I have it?"

"Of course, it does belong to you." He reached into his desk drawer and removed the tape, placing it in front of him on the desk. Sara's hand hovered over it, but she didn't immediately grab it.

"You haven't made any copies, have you?" she grinned. "I wouldn't want them falling into the wrong hands."

"Whose hands would you consider as 'wrong'?" asked Grissom seriously.

"Greg, Nick and Warrick's. They've been bugging me about the tape since it was made, asking to see it."

"Ah. Does that mean that, since I'm not _wrong hands_, I can keep a copy for myself?" he queried with an arched eyebrow, his tone perfectly serious, but a twinkle in his eyes.

Sara saw the twinkle, but was confused as to what was going on, what game Grissom was currently playing.

"Why would you want a copy?" she asked, putting the ball back into his court.

"Maybe I like watching you sleep," he said quietly, suddenly aware of his open office door, but still feeling the need to answer her question honestly.

Although shocked by his comment, Sara managed to take a shaky breath to calm herself down before considering her response.

"It's funny you should mention that," she finally said, "because I was just thinking that I haven't slept as well as I did that night for a long time."

"Really? Maybe it was Beth's calming presence," he suggested.

"Possibly, although I wasn't really aware of Beth watching me, I could only sense you," she said seriously. Without a further word, she grabbed the tape, turned and started to walk out of his office.

"Sara," he called to stop her, watching as she turned around and gave him a curious look. He suddenly realized that he didn't have anything to say to her, he just didn't want her to get the last word. "You should watch the tape, especially the part where you started talking in your sleep," he smirked.

"I thought you didn't know what I said."

"I lied," he grinned.

"What did I say?" she asked, suddenly worried and defensive. Her gaze moved from him to the tape in her hands. Grissom could almost hear her thought process and his grin grew wider.

"I wouldn't recommend watching the tape here, Sara, take it home," he told her.

"What did I say?" she repeated.

"Something that I hope to hear again, though in a different context," he said enigmatically, smiling as Sara practically bolted from his office and headed for her car.

"What did you say to Sara?" asked Catherine a moment later as she poked her head into his office. "She ran past me without a word."

"Let's just say I more or less told her I know what to do," he replied cryptically, chuckling as Catherine rolled her eyes in annoyance and left.

Grissom leaned back in his chair and then reached into his desk drawer once more, pulling out a tape from its depths.

"Well, she didn't say _I_ couldn't keep a copy," he said to himself.

----

End


End file.
